


Star Matches

by TheAuthorGod



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tag As I Go, really short chapters so I can make regular updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4417742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuthorGod/pseuds/TheAuthorGod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was a late bloomer; but, they already knew who his soulmatch was.  Dean was an early bloomer; but, they still had no idea.  The universe wasn't always fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dean's Brooding

**Author's Note:**

> UNPROOF'D. UNBETA'D. UNEDIT'D. Story is mine; characters are not.

People have matching marks with their soulmate. Dean and Cas have been friends forever and seen each other's marks. Dean was the first person that Cas showed when it appeared on his ribs. Dean’s mom noticed his when he rushed from the shower to his room a cold day in December; Dean wasn’t looking for his yet. He was turning twelve that coming January and soulmarks don’t usually appear until the twelfth birthday. Cas was actually the second person to see Dean’s; but, Dean didn’t really count his mother.  
  
All of the marks look like smatterings of dots; they look a bit like constellations. Older generations called then starmatches; the sappy romantics still do. Secretly, Dean does.  
  
Sam and Cas got along amazingly well. It always bugged Dean, like he was losing his best friend to his brother constantly. He and Cas had so little in common comparatively speaking. But, for some ungodly reason, Cas always returned to Dean. They fought over stupid stuff. They made stupid little stories; shared stupid little secrets.  
  
Sometimes, Dean would sit and think about how absolutely perfect his match must be if Cas is simply his best friend, because Cas was perfect.  
  
The morning that Sam got his mark was stressful for Dean. Part of Dean thought that his brother’s mark would match his best friend’s. That he was just a pawn in their epic love story.  
  
Cas had stopped by before school. He’d taken a liking to Mary Winchester’s cinnamon buns years ago and whenever she was making them he managed to show up. Dean was drizzling icing over his when Sam gave out a loud shriek.  
  
From upstairs came a squeal before, “GUYS, MY MARK. I GOT MY MARK!”  
  
Hopping up from his stool, Cas stampeded the stairs. That only hardened the feeling in Dean’s heart. Cas was very interested in Sam’s mark; almost like he wanted it to look a certain way.  
  
Dean groaned before his mother tugged him toward the stairs as well.  
  
When they got to the top, Dean’s stomach was doing cartwheels. Part of him was eager to see his brother’s mark and another part was dreading its semblance.  
  
“Wow.” Cas cooed from behind the door. “It looks familiar.”  
  
Freezing, Dean blinked at the door before pivoting and going to his room. His mother made a sound at him; but, he didn’t pay attention enough to know if it was actually words or just pity out loud.  
  
His mother called after him. “Aren’t you going to come see?”  
  
Instead of answering, Dean did a pathetic belly flop onto his bed and pretended he was invisible. He wasn’t ready to lose Cas. He wasn’t ready for Sam and Cas to find happiness and leave him grappling around. He wasn’t ready to deal with any of it.  
  
A knock sounded on his door. “Hey, Dean, don’t you wanna see?” It was Cas, returning to Dean out of pity or something. Wanting Dean to be happy for him; but, Dean wasn’t ready to be happy for him, not yet.  
  
The door opened. Dean didn’t move. He was invisible remember. He huffed out a long breath into his comforter and tried to keep his heart rate steady.  
  
“Come on, Dean. You’ve got to admit it’s cool. You know that he got his a bit late. It must have been killing him, especially since you got yours early.” Cas crossed the room and sat on the corner of the bed. “It looks familiar, you know, his mark.”  
  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut; but aside from that remained still. He bit his lip. “What does it look like?”  
  
The bed shifted while Cas laid backward. He was parallel to Dean but his head came to about Dean’s middle. He huffed a laugh. “It looks like dots; what do you want me to tell you?” His voice took on a softer hint. “Just come see.”  
  
Shaking his head, Dean actively regulated his breathing. He didn’t want to cry. People don’t really share their marks with other people, not without good reason, not when they’re not family. Usually, the mark appears on the torso; and, you don’t openly look at another person’s mark. Some people get them on one of their limbs; it’s really rare. Dean was one of the rare ones; his appeared on the outside of his shoulder. He can only see it in a mirror.  
  
Cas continued talking. “I know I’ve seen that mark before. I know it.” He shifted on the bed and jostled Dean a bit. “I just can’t place where. It isn’t Gabriel’s mark or Anna’s. It isn’t yours, obviously, that would just be gross.” He hummed in thought. “But, I know I’ve seen it.”  
  
A long silence settled in. Dean really wanted Cas to leave. He just wanted to melt into his bed and skip to the part where he’s over the fact that his brother stole his best friend. Thinking about it and feeling the vast hole that was tearing through his chest, Dean wasn’t sure how soon that would be.  
  
Cas snapped. “I know where I saw it. Remember when I gave swim lessons to my neighbor’s kids, the Moores? I saw the eldest’s mark. It’s hers. I know it. She got hers a little early like you did. Actually, she reminds me a lot of you with her-”  
  
Not like Cas’.  
  
Jerking up, Dean hopped up and ran to his brother’s room.


	2. Sam's Soulmark

He knocked once on the door before pushing it completely open and entering. His brother was sitting with his mother on the bed. Sam’s face was scrunched up in confusion and sadness; when he looked up, Dean felt a pang of guilt ring through him.  
  
Mary whispered to Sam, “See, he just needed a moment before he came to see.” She shot her eldest son a glare that didn’t help ease the guilt that Dean already felt. Sam had been looking forward to his mark ever since their mother had explained what the dots low on her hip meant. Her mark was about as rare as Dean’s because of the placement.  
  
Nodding, Sam turned his head and ran a hand up to his neck to move his hair out of the way. There, at the base of his neck, was a smattering of dots.  
  
Dean breathed a sigh of relief because they looked nothing like Castiel’s. He let himself smile. It quickly drooped. “How on earth did you notice that?” Dean moved forward to get a better look. Sam had fewer and bigger dots. Cas’ look almost like a patch of black freckles. Dean wondered if it was weird that he knew exactly the pattern of his friend’s soulmark. Dean ruffled Sam’s hair back over it; its placement was about as rare as Dean’s or Mary’s and that made Dean swell with pride in his family. “Were you looking for it or something?”  
  
A blush rose onto Sam’s cheeks.  
  
Snorting, Dean laughed. Of course, his soulmark-obsessed brother was looking for his soulmark, probably every day since he turned 12. Dean smiled. “Late bloomer.”  
  
Sam sent him a sour look; he called it his bitchface in his head but knew better than to say that aloud in front of his mother. Cas had agreed with the sentiment when Dean shared it with him once a few years back.  
  
“You’re whole family has rare mark placement.” Cas stood in the door. He was far enough away that he was separate from the family unit; but, close enough to be included.  
  
Cas’ obvious space grated on Dean’s nerves. Cas was just as much a part of the family as anyone else there. Well, actually, maybe not; but, Dean felt that Cas deserved a spot in their family. He came from a big family and that meant he spent a lot of his time at the Winchester house. Dean made a motion with his head for Cas to come closer, that he wasn’t intruding.  
  
When Dean looked back over to Sam, he was wearing the same look he always did around Cas and Dean, the doe-eyed half-pout.  
  
The air in the room shifted when Cas stepped in and took his place next to Dean. Maybe Dean was the only one who felt it. Cas’ hand brushed the back of Dean’s. Maybe Dean wasn’t the only one who felt it.  
  
When Dean glanced over at Cas, he had a smirk on his face. “Sam, I think I know who you’re soulmatch is.”  
  
Sam bounced up from the bed; his pouty face forgotten. “What really?” His brows took on a skeptical tilt. “How can you be sure? You aren’t very good with soulmarks.”  
  
Narrowing his eyes, Dean wasn’t sure if that was true. Cas had read into soulmarks almost as much as Sam had; he was probably the second best resource on the subject in the room and not by but a little bit.  
  
Tilting his head to the side, Cas continued. “I’ve seen that mark before. It was someone I gave lessons to. I know that mark.” Cas crossed his arms over his chest and kept his face blankly sincere. Cas had awkward expressions; but, once you were used to them, they were easy to read.  
  
Sam tapped his foot impatiently. “Then tell me.”  
  
Turning back to Cas, Dean’s chest filled with mischievous pride. Cas was sporting a smirk and a dark glow to his eyes. “I think I’ll let you figure it out on your own.”  
  
Mary smacked her hands to the bed on either side of her lap in a gesture that usually meant something along the lines of ‘raising boys is so difficult’. “Well, I’m not going to make any of you go to school today. I’ll phone your mother, Castiel.” It was normal to stay home for a day after the mark appears; it used to be a day of celebration. Now, it’s a day of leisure for the whole family. She stood and moved toward the door. “At least, that means that my cinnamon rolls won’t go to waste.” She tapped Dean’s shoulder when she passed. “Help me set the table?”  
  
Making to follow, Dean nodded.  
  
“But that’s not fair and you know it.” Sam stomped his foot at Cas.  
  
Dean left the room; but, he could picture Cas’ falsely innocent expression and the nonchalant shrug that usually accompanied it. “I don’t make the rules,” Cas responded.  
  
Sam made a whining noise. “What if I tell you who your soulmatch is?”  
  
Fingers froze on the bannister, Dean replaced his foot on the top step and turned to listen. He was worried again. The insecurities flooded back into him from the same hole that he’d pondered earlier on his bed.  
  
“What?” Cas’ voice had lost its edge and the image of Cas in Dean’s mind had deflated. “You can’t know that.”  
  
“But I do.” Dean could hear the bitchface in his brother’s voice. “I’ll tell you yours if you tell me mine. Besides, it’s kinda depressing watching you not notice your soulmate.” They were moving toward the door so Dean hastened down the stairs as quietly as possible.


	3. Dean's Uncertainty

Dean set the table in record time. Since they were all staying home, his mother was expanding on the breakfast options – there were hash browns in the oven and eggs boiling on the back burner of the stove. She was retrieving bacon from the fridge when Dean leaned against the opposite counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “What if you don’t like your soulmatch?”  
  
Sipping her coffee before opening the bacon’s packaging, Mary made a small smile. “Most people like their soulmatch.”  
  
“Yeah, well, what if you don’t?” Dean shrugged and glanced toward the stairs. Cas and Sam still hadn’t come down.  
  
She placed the slices of bacon into the frying pan on the front burner. “Honey, it rarely happens. I’m sure you don’t have to worry about it.”  
  
Biting his lip for a moment, Dean continued, “But, we’re already rare. None of us have the mark on our actual torso and, and-” Dean slid his feet out further and slouched into the counter. “And what if I like someone who isn’t my soulmate?”  
  
Mary paused in the middle of flipping the bacon. She remained silent while she checked on the eggs and peeked into the oven. She turned to open her mouth when Sam yelled in the other room.  
  
“JUST TELL ME WHO MY MATCH IS!” He tumbled down the stairs after a closed off Cas. “I TOLD YOU THAT I KNOW YOURS!”  
  
Cas’ hands were balled into fists at his sides. His expression cold and closed off and his shoulders were hunched inward. “I told you; I don’t want to know.” Cas growled back at him. Cas pushed his way past Sam who had tried to block the 16-year-old’s path.  
  
Easily, Dean caught Cas’ arm with his hand. “Why not?” Pushing off of the counter, Dean got into Cas’ face. They were about nose to nose – height-wise and proximity-wise; but, neither were finished growing yet. “Why don’t you want to know who your soulmatch is?”  
  
Pulling his arm away, Cas stared back at Dean, defiance glowing behind his eyes. “I just don’t.” He turned to look at the food that Mary was busying herself with.  
  
Dean spun him back around and poked him in the chest. “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He poked again. “When we were little, it was all you would talk about. Your match this. Your match that. You read everything you could.” He pushed his finger into Cas’ sternum and stared at it. “Sometimes, you’d spend an entire night telling me what you’d do when you found your match. You used to say that you prayed that they’d fall out of the sky, that someone would introduce you.” Dean redirected his glare to Cas’ face. “So, don’t give me that bullshit.”  
  
Everyone had gone still. It was a tense silence. At least, it was for Dean. It was broken by the kitchen timer going off.  
  
“People grow up, Dean.” Cas swiped Dean’s hand away from his chest. “Some people faster than others.” His glare was pointed.  
  
Swallowing, Dean shook his head. “You don’t grow out of that sort of thing without a good reason.”  
  
Cas’ face darkened. “Yes, they do-”  
  
“Not Ms. Rosen, the librarian. Not Jo. Not Sam – though he’s barely grown at all. My mom still gets glass eyes. I’m the one in this family that remembers how broken we were when my Dad, my mother’s match, left. I’m the one that’s never believed in this crap.” Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas. “You’re the one that always tried to get me to see the good part. You’re the one that-” Tears were welling in Dean’s eyes.  
  
Appearing guilty and deflated, Cas tried not to look at Dean.  
  
Dean whispered the last part, “You’re the one that reminded me that I wasn’t a mistake.” He turned toward the door.  
  
This time, Cas grappled for Dean. “You’re not. God, you’re not a mistake, Dean!”  
  
Somehow, Dean evaded Cas’ grabbing hands and left through the kitchen screen door. He had tears falling down his face.  
  
Cas had always been there when he had cried; but, Cas was one of the last people he wanted at that moment. Cas had always reminded him that despite that his parents weren’t perfect, despite that they were destined to be together then be torn apart, that despite all of that, Dean wasn’t a mistake. How could Cas have given up on all of that? It just wasn’t fair.  
  
Glancing over his shoulder, Dean wasn’t sure if he was hoping that Cas was following him or not. By the profound sense of abandonment that settled in when he saw no one following, he figured he must have wanted Cas there anyway.


	4. Dean's Confidant

Dean ended up at Charlie’s house, not really his first choice; but, Cas would be his first choice so, whatever. He didn’t knock on the front door; instead, he circled to the back and knocked on the door to the basement.  
  
There was a yell, “COMING!”  
  
He waited with his hands dug into his pockets. Charlie loved living in the basement. When everything first happened, her mother died and her marks came in and she got her first gaming console - all in the same week and a half - the basement had felt like a prison. It didn’t anymore, thank god.  
  
The door swung open and Charlie smiled. “Hey, Crown Prince, what’s up?” She leaned against the door’s edge swinging back and forth with it on it’s hinge.  
  
Emotional constipation was what Jo called what Dean was doing. Dean preferred brooding. He stared forward with narrowed eyes and waited for Charlie to catch on.  
  
It didn’t take her long. She stepped to the side and waved Dean in. “Mi basement es su basement.”  
  
Dean moved to the red futon. It had a bowl of popcorn laying sideways and a bag of jellybeans half gone resting in the middle. He swiped a hand across the faux suede material before slumping into it.  
  
Following behind, Charlie moved her game controler and sat criss-cross-applesauce on the other side. She brought a handful of popcorn to her face and spoke before putting it in her mouth. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”  
  
Regretting ever letting Charlie in on that little secret, Dean blushed to the tips of his ears. “Sam got his mark.” He twisted his hands around each other in his lap.  
  
“That’s great. I mean, his came late and all; so, I was starting to worry. I mean, if he didn’t that would have been okay too; we all would have been really supportive and all-”  
  
“Cas and I got in a fight.” Dean cut her off.  
  
Charlie’s expression turned smug. “I knew it.” She shifted around and pulled her phone from her pocket. She tapped it’s screen and drew a ‘C’ with the grid before turning it so Dean could see the screen.  
  
On the screen was the text conversation between Cas and Charlie. Cas’ latest text was sent only 5 minutes before; it read, ‘Dean is probably on his way over.’  
  
Sighing, Dean deflated into the futon. Of course, Castiel knew where he had gone. Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Of course, Castiel knew him that well.  
  
“Why don’t you tell cute, little, adorable me what the issue is so I can fix it?” Charlie leaned over the far end of the futon and grabbed two pops from the floor. She handed one to Dean. Sometimes, Dean thought that Charlie would have been a good soulmatch; but she wasn’t that big on people like Dean, people with penises. Sometimes, that sucked.  
  
Dean licked his lips. “You know that I have issues with the whole soulmatch thing, with how my dad and mom’s match didn’t... work out.” He looked at the ground, grateful that Charlie didn’t try to say anything. “I dunno. It was stupid.” He shook his head a little and looked back over to the door. Somewhere in his chest he felt like Cas should knock on that door at any second; somewhere in his head said he was wrong.  
  
Shifting closer to Dean, Charlie leaned over and pressed her forehead into his shoulder. It was comforting in a way that Dean had never understood. She spoke soft, “Most fights between you and Cas are stupid.” She rolled her head side to side before pausing. “It’s like when the two of you didn’t talk for a week in first grade because you thought that Iron Man was better than Captain America.”  
  
“Well, he is,” Dean mumbled.  
  
“What I’m trying to say,” Charlie sat back up and smiled a little at Dean, reassuring him, “is that you guys don’t always have the best heads around each other.”  
  
Dean doubled over. He crossed his arms and tucked them into his knees, like he was suddenly cold. “But why?”  
  
The T.V. cut to power-saving mode and the room became a bit darker. Charlie wiggled the joystick on her controller to brighten the room again. “I think it’s because you guys grew up together, maybe. Maybe you are just supposed to be like that.”  
  
“But, I don’t want to be like that.”  
  
“Then what do you want to be like?”  
  
Dean cocked his head in Charlie’s direction. “Do you want to know a secret?”  
  
“Always, duh.” She waved her hands around, mock-offended, to lighten the mood.  
  
Sighing, Dean stared at the frozen image on the screen, a mage’s spell was about to hit some ogre-looking thing. He blinked once, slowly. “I wish Cas were my soulmatch.”


	5. Charlie's Rescue-ish

“That’s not how it works.” Charlie said again, rubbing Dean’s back in slow circles where he had collapsed over his knees burrowing his face into his arms.  
  
Dean sucked in a shuddering breath. “I know that. I know how the marks work. I know that I’m basically betrothed to whoever has the same make as me; but, it doesn’t stop,” he waved his hands around gesturing to himself and the air around him, “all this.”  
  
“Tell you what. We’ll go get some food and we’ll talk more when your stomach isn’t growling.”  
  
Pausing, Dean listened for sounds of his stomach. There, in the background, was his stomach making a demonic sound. He was reminded that he skipped breakfast in light of his and Cas’ disagreement. He hadn’t been actually crying, no tear stains; but, he knew that his face was probably red from his focus on not crying. “Only if it’s the diner on third.”  
  
Holding up her keys and jingling them a little bit, Charlie rolled her eyes. “Would I take you anywhere else?”  
  
Getting up and stretching, Dean huffed a laugh. “You once tried to take me to a vegan place.”  
  
Charlie hopped up and pushed her hands into her hips. “You know that was because my girlfriend picked where we went. I didn’t even know she had a vegan-thing going on.” She grabbed her backpack and Dean froze.  
  
“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at school?”  
  
She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess; but,” she ticked off fingers, “my favorite non-related little bro got his mark, my grades can take the toll of one day of hooky, and my mother died when I was little so I’m given way too much leeway on ‘mental health days’.” She bounced over to the door. “I think I’ll be fine.”  
  
Dean followed and sat into the yellow gremlin. It wasn’t as cool as the Impala; but, it was definitely cooler than anything anyone else drove. Cas drove some weird old-time thing. Actually, Cas drove a Lincoln Mark V and it was cooler than Dean would ever admit aloud. Dean thought about how he and Cas had to fix it up whenever it decided to blow something. He thought back to that time they were stuck on the side of the road with a flat tire; Cas had yet to replace the spare that was on the back axle. It was when they ended up splayed across the hood looking at the sky.  
  
A pain dug through Dean’s chest. He wasn’t sure where it came from; it was like it came from something that had wedged its way into his heart and was only then beginning to sting. When Dean blinked his eyes to pull himself from his thoughts, Charlie was flicking on her signal to turn onto 3rd Street.  
  
Breaking the silence, Dean went with his current preoccupation. “Come on, you’ve got to have liked someone.” He thrummed his fingers against his leg. “People have relationships before they find there one. Some people even like live with other people.”  
  
Charlie shrugged. “I mean, yeah, I see a girl and go, ‘ohhh okay I want that in my soulmatch’; but, I mean, nothing more than that.” She pulled into a parking space at the diner. It was nearing 10:30 when they arrived.  
  
Feeling raw, Dean rushed from the car to the diner. He glanced to his usual spot at the counter next to the pie domes. The shard in his chest twisted a little and renewed the soft pain. It wasn’t only Dean’s spot at the counter there; it was actually Dean-and-Cas’ spot. He pivoted on his heel and strode to the very end of the diner and took the booth. He slumped into the familiar red vinyl.  
  
“So this may not have been the best idea?” Charlie slid in across from him.  
  
“Food is always a good idea.” His groaning it to the floor somewhat detracted from the statement.  
  
“Hey, Brother, you feeling okay.”  
  
Dean groaned to the floor even louder but with less intelligible syllables and more frustration. “Benny, can I ask you a really personal question?” He lifted his head to look at his friend. Once upon a time, Dean had felt the thing that Charlie had described for Benny. He had the whole “I want a burlier match like Benny” and “I want someone that can cook like Benny can” when it came to Benny. He’d grown out of it a bit; he still recognized the attributes he liked, envied, and wanted. He was ready to grow out of his thing for Cas too; but, it had been going stronger and longer than anything else.  
  
“I’d say no; but, I know that you won’t listen to go on ahead.” Benny tucked his order pad into his back pocket in a way that used to make Dean ogle his ass a bit longer than usual. “Whatcha wanna ask?”  
  
Licking his lips, Dean tried to look anywhere but Benny. “Have you like, liked people? Like, want to be with someone outside of your match?”


End file.
